This Isn't Nearly As Fun As I Thought It Would Be
by The Sarcasm Master
Summary: Max has always wanted to rule the world. But once he actually manages to take over the world with the help of an underground conspiracy...he's starting to find that the job isn't all it's cracked up to be.
1. Chapter 1: Contract

**After completing FDTD today, this is going to (hopefully) be my next long-term project. This is my first attempt at a "dramedy," as all of my previous stories have either been mostly drama or mostly comedic. Balancing the two is the goal of this fic and we'll just have to see how it goes.**

* * *

><p><em>"This is Evil One, can anyone read me? Repeat, this is Evil One, can anyone read me?"<em>

_"Uggggh, I still don't get why we have to do this. I mean, it's like the boss just watched Star Wars and went like, 'hey, those squadron names sound cool. How about I name the members of my infiltration team like that! Except instead of things like "Red" or "Rogue," I'll use the word EVIL. That won't be stupid at all!"_

_"Watch your mouth, Evil Two. Our leader is one of the WISEST men on the planet. I have no doubt that he knows EXACTLY what he's doing."_

_"James, are you sure-"_

_"Ahem."_

_"Ugh, FINE. EVIL ONE, ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?"_

_"One hundred percent, Evil Two."_

_"Okay, whatever. I'm in position. This heist should go well as long as Max doesn't do anything-"_

_*CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH*_

_"...stupid."_

Evil Two groaned and looked around at the screens in front of him, examining the security footage throughout the bank. Quickly he found the diminutive purple-haired man on the monitors. He appeared to be kicking around a detached Chrisbot head for some reason. Quickly, Evil Two changed his channel so that he could talk directly to the boss.

_"Yo boss. You do realize that you're going to trigger every alarm in the entire building, right?"_

_"STUPID! NON-EVIL! PANSYBAG OF A HOST! HE IS THE WORST KIND OF EVIL!"_

_"Sir, you do of course realize that you're making yourself look like even more of an incompetent moron than usual, right?"_

_"Evil Two, I am providing your paycheck."_

_"Okay, good point. The vault is set to open in about five minutes. Evil One is currently in the garb of a security guard, meaning you should be able to get into the vault no problem."_

_"Excellent work, my minion! Soon this bank shall be OURS! MWA HA HA-"_

_"Shut up! Do you WANT to give yourself away?"_

_"...sorry." _It was quiet a bit before Max whispered _"Not sorry" _unknowingly into his microphone.

Evil Two changed the channel. Max's nasally voice could really grate on the nerves. To be perfectly honest the only reason Evil Two was there was because of the money. No other reasons. Evil One was a dumbass and had worked with Max before. He sighed, wondering how he'd been reduced to taking orders from a psychopathic manchild with grandiose delusions of conquering the world.

Evil Two leaned forward as Evil One appeared on the screens near Max, key in hand. The safe would be opened and in that safe was a precious gem. How obtaining this gem could lead to world domination was anyone's guess, but if Evil Two had to guess, he'd likely say that Max was only stealing it because he thought it looked pretty.

He certainly wouldn't put it past the midget.

Evil One arrived next to Max, key in hand. Sighing, Evil Two tuned into their conversation, just to see what kind of moronic shit would spew out of their mouths.

_"Sir! It's nice to see you again!"_

_"Of course it's nice to see me! I AM your future evil overlord, after all!"_

_"Yes sir! I must say, this is one of your most brilliant plans yet!"_

_"I humbly accept your gratitude, and remind you that it wouldn't have been possible without your help."_

_"No, it's all on you, sir."_

Evil Two groaned, placing a hand to his forehead. Sometimes he wondered if Evil One and Max were in a secret relationship and it was just that no one was telling him. A rather lewd picture came into his head and immediately wished he had some brain bleach. Groaning, he cleared his throat and interrupted their conversation.

_"Look, you might not realize it, but we ARE on a schedule. Get a move on."_

_"Sorry, Evil Two. We won't let it happen again."_

Evil One gave a thumbs up to the camera. In his hand he held the key and turned to insert it, however, Max shoved him aside, shouting something about how he should be the one to open it. In his grandiose gestures, Max knocked over a vase nearby.

Evil Two facepalmed as all hell broke loose.

"Shit shit shit shit shit..." Evil Two groaned, quickly pedaling through screens, observing guards come rushing towards Max and Evil One.

_"This is Evil Two. The plan has been compromised, repeat, THE PLAN HAS BEEN COMPROMISED!"_

_"GEE, what gave it away?" _A tinny voice came through the speakers.

_"Get out of there NOW!" _Evil Two yelled, pressing a key. The door opened and behind him several guards walked in, brandishing weapons.

"FREEZE!" One of them yelled, and Evil Two turned around, defenseless. Sighing and gritting his teeth, he raised his hands in the air in surrender.

"Max, if you leave me here..." he growled, before the guard smashed his headset.

Meanwhile, Max and Evil One scrambled for escape.

"EVIL TASER!" Max yelled, shocking the guard.

"Nice work, sir!" Evil One replied.

"You are welcome, minion! Now, let us make our dramatic escape through the window! CHARGE!" Max ran towards the window.

"Sir, I'm not sure that that's the best-"

*CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH*

Max lay on the ground, bleeding, as he had jumped out the window. Which doesn't exactly work the same way as it does in the movies. Max coughed weakly as voices resounded in his head. The darkness surrounded him as he saw Evil One stare at him from the second story hallway. He staggered to his feet, examining the glass cuts on his hands.

He glanced around, still woozy. Failure. The thirteenth failed heist, to be exact. His mother's budget would soon be running out and still he had gained nothing. Somewhere in his overly egotistical mind he probably could have made out an emotion known as regret. But as it was, he just knew that he had a sinking feeling inside him and wasn't entirely sure what it was.

"You're in quite the predicament, aren't you?"

The voice came from behind him, and Max whipped around to face the voice. The figure was difficult to make out in the darkness. In the background, police sirens filled the air.

"Who...are you?"

The figure chuckled. "I represent a very rich and powerful benefactor, who has taken an interest in you, Max. Personally, I don't see it."

"Do I...know you from somewhere?"

"I competed with you. Pahkitew Island. I wasn't the biggest fan of yours," the man said. "But hey! A prior connection is why I was selected for this assignment."

"What is it that you want with my evilness?"

The man stepped towards him and calmly pulled a silenced pistol out of his pocket. He proceeded to shoot two guards that had come up behind Max. "You have potential, Max. You just haven't yet realized it. We can provide you with the best of the best technology and advisers. This is your lucky break."

"What are you saying?" Max asked, still woozy.

It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but the man might have smirked.

"That we could help you conquer the world."

Max's eyes lit up. "R-really?"

The man nodded. "Yes. Really." He extended his hand. "Would you care to come with us?"

Max nodded, a gleeful look on his face as he stepped forward...and promptly fell on his face.

The man sighed and shook his head. "I can tell this is going to be quite the ordeal..."

* * *

><p><strong>Ten Years Later<strong>

Arranged are some newspaper snippets that tell the story of how Canada, led by former Total Drama contestant Max Vile, managed to conquer the world.

**RUMORS OF CONSPIRACY IN CANADA**

**PRIME MINISTER OF CANADA DECRIES RUMORS, CALLS THEM "DESIGNED TO CAUSE UNREST"**

**PRIME MINISTER OF CANADA ASSASSINATED**

**INSURGENT CALLING HIMSELF "MAX VILE" TAKES OVER CANADA**

**WHITE HOUSE BLOWN UP, MAX VILE SAYS "I DIDN'T DO IT"**

**NUKES DETONATED IN EUROPE, MAX VILE SAYS "I DIDN'T DO IT"**

**CHAOS SPREADS AS NUCLEAR FACTORIES ARE SABOTAGED FROM THE INSIDE**

**U.S, ENGLAND, AND FRANCE DECLARE WAR ON CANADA**

**U.S IS BOMBED, ENGLAND AND FRANCE GO BOOM BOOM**

And so on. As to how Max Vile was capable of capable of almost effortlessly defeating some of the greatest military powers in the world and claiming the entire world for his own, there are many theories. That is to say, there _were_ many theories before the events of today. It almost seemed like something out of an Austin Powers movie, and yet, it was happening. Through surprise, ruthlessness, and the fact that he had no idea what he was doing, Max managed to actually conquer the entire world.

However, when it comes to the matter of his funding the details are a bit more dubious.

There were rumors abound that Max had entered a pact with an underground group that had its hands in _everything _in the world. Similar but not exactly related to the Illuminati. Of course, in this case, the fact that _Max_ was in charge should have signaled that something was very, very wrong with the world. And not just the fact that a purple-haired moron had nuked half of it.

If Max had indeed allied himself with a generic and mysterious group, then what incentive could they have for keeping _him_ of all people on the throne of power?

After the events of today, I have decided to reveal these secrets. For months, years I have searched for the truth, a reason as to why Max Vile had become our incompetent ruler. This is the story of a vast web of secrets and lies that have existed for longer than we'd care to admit. This is the story of how a grandiose, moronic, psychopathic manchild managed to realize his grandest dreams and actually took over the world.

Only to realize that he was hopelessly, no,_ pathetically_ out of his depth.


	2. Chapter 2: Control

Max had chosen New York City as his capitol of choice, insisting that his subjects refer to it as Gotham.

The Empire State Building's top half had been toppled, as if someone had took a wrecking ball to it and was too lazy to finish the job. Which was the truth, actually. Max had had his men lug over a crane with a wrecking ball attached, and promptly swung it into the tower at about the fiftieth floor, before getting bored and demanding that the crane be taken apart because it was "not befitting of his evilness."

Having been too lazy to use resources, Max decided to just build his evil tower on top of the remnants of the State Building. Robots and laborers worked on the tower that had to be designed to Max's exact specifications, no matter how non-architecturally sound it was. The first time they'd tried to set it up, it fell right back down, killing thirty people. Max had sighed at the collateral damage before hiring a team of architects. Within a year, the ETOD (Evil Tower of Doom) had been created as Max's symbol of fear throughout the world.

It bore a resemblance to Saruman's tower from The Lord of the Rings, but shorter. Max remained in the "throne room" of sorts, crafted to meet his megalomaniac desires. The entirety of the room was purple and black, with sinister lighting and a full window as a wall behind Max's lavish chair. The desk in front of Max was filled with all sorts of seemingly important papers. Emphasis on "seemingly." The papers' actual purpose was to give the evil overlord an impression of being busy.

Max's pug, Freckles 2.0 remained in his lap at all times. He liked to stroke the dumb animal all the time, especially during meetings. More often then not there would be a serious conversation going on and Freckles would let out a series of grunts and snorts that completely destroyed the atmosphere of the situation.

Not all of his newly acquired funds had gone to furthering himself, though. Max had spent a generous amount creating a mansion for his parents. A thank you, of sorts.

"Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah!"

Max realized that he'd been drifting off, and directed his attention back to the meeting at hand.

Namely, that of the trial of everyone who had ever wronged him.

"Look, I was just doing my job!" Chris McLean pleaded. "Reality TV show hosts do this kind of thing all the time! It wasn't a personal statement against you or anything! R-remember when I spared you from elimination?"

Max glared at the pleading man, stroking his pug evilly. Guards stood on either side, guns at the ready. "You eliminated me unfairly. You STOLE the money from me! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO DESERVE AN ELIMINATION!"

"We needed a double elimination to fit the thirteen episode limit!" Chris laughed nervously. "Seriously dude, just chill. I can give you whatever you want. Chicks, money, beer, anything."

"You _will _give me _all _those things. All. Of. Them," Max said with a wicked grin. A figure in a suit skulked around in the shadows, muttering to himself. Max paid him no attention.

Chris continued to laugh, backing up anxiously. "I...could be useful to you. Where's Chef? Why isn't HE here?"

Max sniffed in disdain. "I tried to bring him in as well. My men came home screaming."

"Was he that terrifying?"

"Well...apparently they saw something so unspeakably evil that they were blinded," Max said, hesitatnt to report the failure of his men. "You...probably do not want to know, worm."

Chris narrowed his eyes. "So you're going after me because...I kicked you off of Total Drama?"

Max nodded and smiled. "That's it! You're learning!"

"Look, kid," Chris said. "I don't know _how _you managed to actually take over the world, but killing me won't help. I mean, sure it might make you feel better, but you still have that huge nuclear epidemic in Europe and all, and-"

"Shut up, please," Max said, trying to ignore what he was saying.

"-those poor people being exposed to radiation and all. I mean, yeah, I exposed people to radiation but I didn't do it on a widespread scale. You have one cold heart dude, some of these babies that are being made are _gross."_

Max plugged his fingers in his ears. "La la la! I'm not listening! Stop filling me with your lies! My rule is perfect!"

"Oh, and the famine, pestilence, death and war. Man, dude, you brought the four horsemen to Earth all by yourself. Congrats."

Max slammed his hand down on a button, and a trap door opened up beneath Chris. The host screamed as he tumbled down the chute. He felt a glow on him and couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Chris McLean burned to death in lava.

The trapdoor closed and Max pet his pug contentedly. "Anyone else have any complaints about my rule?"

A chorus of murmurs. All the guards shook their head. The figure in the shadows continued stalking about, whispering on the phone to somebody.

Max looked down at his list of wrongdoers, knowing and dreading what came next but having to do it anyway.

_Max's List of People Who Need To Die Who Have Wronged Me, I Mean Him. Yeah. (in ascending order of crime.)_

_1. That kid who keeps throwing rocks through my window._

_2. Dennis Smith (MEANIE)_

_3. Sugar (SHE MUST NEVER MOCK MY EVIL EVER AGAIN)_

_4. Chris McLean_

_5. Scarlett_

Max gulped. Four out of five were down. All that remained was...her. Even though his men had brought in a report that they'd captured her without much problem, Max was still on edge. Not that he'd let anyone know that. As of right now, she just needed to be let in. He'd brag for a bit, and then open the trapdoor and savor her demise.

"Bring her in," Max said, as authoritatively as he could. He heard a sigh from the shadowed figure but payed him no attention.

Scarlett walked in, arms handcuffed behind her back, her hair in disarray. There was no sign of insanity, only tiredness. She wore a jumpsuit and her glasses were shattered slightly. The two guards kept their guns on her at all times. Scarlett's eyes narrowed as she saw Max.

The door slid shut behind them and it was quiet for a moment.

Then Freckles snorted.

"Nice beast you have there," Scarlett sneered, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "How goes the task of governing a world filled with radiation poisoning, rampant disease, and widespread hunger?"

"Very well, thank you," Max sneered right back at her. "I'm very busy making sure there's at least one statue of me in every city. Those damned bodies seem to keep getting in the way though. I don't really get it."

Scarlett snarled. "You have no idea what you're doing. Do you."

Max furrowed his eyebrows. "Of course I know what I'm doing! Why should I care what minor problems people are dealing with? I have much more important things to take care of, like RULING THE WORLD!"

"Ruling the world means you have a responsibility to it," Scarlett replied evenly. "The only reason you haven't been deposed is because people are too scattered and too weak to strike back. You are incompetent."

"Scarlett, let me tell you something," Max said, setting Freckles down on his desk and standing up. He walked over to his former sidekick, talking as he did so. "I'm keeping them in fear," he said, tucking his arms behind his back and looking up at the imprisoned lunatic. "I have the entire world under my control. Maybe _you're _just jealous that I did it FIRST."

Scarlett seethed. "I am NOT jealous of you," she glared at him. "As a matter of fact, I PITY you! Yes, I had ambitions of world domination! But you are doing it ALL WRONG!"

"What do you mean?" Max asked, bewildered. "I have everything! The sinister tower! The animal in my lap! The high-backed chair! The guards with exceptionally poor aim! WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M DOING IT WRONG?"

"The people have to both respect you and fear you," Scarlett said, fury rising in her voice. "The people may have a responsibility to you, but as a result _you also have a responsibility for the people._ What good is ruling the world if half its inhabitants are either dead, starving, or radiation-affected? They _will _eventually rise up, and your moronic rule will come to an end. It's not that you conquered the world that upsets me," Scarlett said, stepping forward and looking down at her suddenly meek overlord.

"It's that you did it all in the absolute dumbest way possible."

Max looked dumbfounded for one moment.

Then he pulled out his gun.

"That's it, SIDEKICK!" he yelled, spitting in her face. "I'm going to silence you ONCE AND FOR ALL! YOU'VE WRONGED ME FOR THE LAST TIME!"

He raised the gun and prepared to fire.

"Wait! WAIT! STOP!" The figure from the shadows ran out, placing himself between Max's gun and Scarlett. Scarlett's eyes widened as she recognized yet another Total Drama alumni.

"Dave, what are you doing?" Max snarled, attempting to push him aside. "She's a big meanie and I WANT TO KILL HER! GUARDS, TAKE THIS MAN ASIDE!"

Dave shook his head. "Look, we've been working together a long time, and you trust my judgment, right? Don't kill her."

"Dave, do you want me to get out the grease gun again?" Max growled.

"NO NOT THE GREASE GUN!" Dave flinched, before realizing that he'd just embarrassed himself. "Look, I've helped you get here and since when have I ever led you wrong? Scarlett is dangerous, yes. But she'd be more useful alive."

"I don't care," Max whined. "I want her dead! And because I want it, IT MUST HAPPEN!"

"I'm not about to let you grease my new suit," Dave whined right back. "So I'm putting my foot down."

"I AM YOUR EVIL OVERLORD! YOU MUST OBEY ME!"

"I've helped you get here from day one, no matter how much I might hate you!"

"GIVE ME ONE REASON WHY I SHOULD LET HER LIVE!"

"I ALREADY DID, YOU BRAINLESS PIG!"

Scarlett looked decidedly unimpressed. "Uh, boys? Can I go now?"

It was quiet as both Dave and Max turned to look at her. Max let out a deep sigh.

"Take her to the prison, and use her to...um...help. Or something. Have her do something non-evil. So that she doesn't escape."

Scarlett smiled affably as the guard roughly shoved her out of the room. "You won't regret this!" she yelled as the guards pushed her through the door.

As it slid shut, Max turned on Dave.

"I feel like that too many of my acquaintances these days are from that show," Max sighed, returning to his seat.

"I'm not from the show, sir!" Evil One said, popping up out of nowhere. "You can always talk to me!"

"You are appropriately evil and all," Max sighed, fondling Freckles in his hands dramatically, ignoring the fact that Evil One had seemingly materialized out of thin air. "But sometimes, I wish I had an...actual...sidekick." He turned to Dave, who had his arms folded and was nervously looking around to make sure that the grease gun was nowhere nearby. "You don't count."

"I wouldn't want to be your sidekick anyway," Dave sneered.

"Good."

Max started squishing Freckles's face. "Who's a good little boy? Who is? You are! Yes you are!" He said in his baby voice.

Freckles snorted right in his face. "D'aaaaawwwwwww..."

"Are you actually going to get anything done?" Dave asked incredulously. "Look, we can't keep funding you if you're just going to waste it all."

Max cleared his throat. "As a matter of fact..." He opened a drawer and drew a stack of papers out and promptly handed it to Evil One. "I am! Or rather, Evil One will! He will be going through all this paperwork and signing things, and performing all the boring stuff. Sounds fair, right?"

"Uh," Evil One began.

"Excellent! I knew I could count on you! Now if you'd excuse me, I have a bubble bath to get to."

"Sir, I don't exactly know what I'm doing-" Evil One began, but Max was already out the door, home free.

Dave sighed and shook his head. "Sucks to be you, bud. Sucks to be you."

And with that, the hypochondriac left the room.

* * *

><p>Max hummed to himself inside his bubble bath, acting like a little kid despite being thirty or so. His phone rang, and reluctantly he answered.<p>

_"Sir, apparently the council of Asia is struggling to provide for-"_

"Don't care."

Later, Max was receiving a massage when his phone buzzed again. Once again, Evil One was on the other end.

_"Sir, one of Japan's nuclear reactors just exploded again! What do I do?"  
><em>

Max sighed. "Don't care."

Max moved on to his quarters and dismissed his guards before petting Freckles.

Once again, his phone rang.

_"Sir, a drunkard just came into the building and murdered three people!"_

Max groaned, and put his mouth up to the phone. "For the _last time. I. Don't. Care."_

He shut his phone and relaxed.

Five seconds later, his phone rang again.

"WHAT IS IT NOW?" he bellowed.

"Uh, did I come at a bad time?" a meek voice not belonging to Evil One answered.

"Oh. Sorry," Max said sheepishly. "Thought you were someone else.

"A-anyway sir," the man stuttered. "Just thought you might want to know that there's talk of an underground resistance meeting this week. They've covered their tracks well, but I thought you might want to know."

Max mused for a moment, and envisioned the opening scene of A New Hope, with the Stormtroopers cutting down anyone in sight, backed by the almighty Vader. In his imagination, Max put himself in Vader's shoes, eliminating all traces of a Rebel Alliance, striking fear into the populace.

Unbeknownst to him, he'd started breathing heavily in imitation of Darth Vader. On the other end, the young man was very confused. It was funny.

"Uh, sir?"

Max snapped back into reality. "My apologies. Thank you. I'll be taking care of this personally."

"Uh, you're welcome. I guess."

Max hung up, and a maniacal grin formed across his features.

"I did this all wrong, huh? I'll show them...I'll show them..."


	3. Chapter 3: Rally

When looking at New York, *ahem,* Gotham, you would first see that it was in very, very good condition on the outside. Things were kept clean, the buildings were sleek, and Dave had convinced Max to just let the system operate the way it had before he'd taken it over, meaning that it was essentially running separate from Max...he just happened to be the leader was all. So for the most part, Gotham was spared of Max's stupidity minus the Empire State Building thing. People essentially just stayed as far away from him as possible and for the most part it was fine. Almost normal, even.

Then he decided to put his face everywhere. On statues, on billboards, and one could not go ANYWHERE without seeing a message from their dear leader. But as long as you could deal with seeing a little purple-haired gnome everywhere, you were fine.

Then he decided to have drones patrol the entire city. Yeah.

Outside the city was even worse, though. All the crops had withered up and died and Brooklyn had been brutally destroyed because Max didn't like their accents.

It was in this ruined city that the rebellion was gathering. Not that one would notice. The instructions had been quite clear to remain as inconspicuous as possible and to talk to the scavenger seemingly tearing through the rubble. The "scavenger" was switched out every couple of hours, and it was very clear that if someone else was already in the area, they would need to wait at least twenty minutes after the people were directed to the meeting place before talking to the scavenger. They couldn't afford to act suspicious. Not that Max deemed it necessary to patrol a wrecked city, he didn't see the point in it. But it never hurt to be cautious.

The two cloaked people moved quickly through the rubble, glancing around nervously for any cameras. None appeared to be active.

The scavenger waved to them and the two cautiously slipped over to him. The scavenger cast his eyes around, making sure no one else was around.

"Brooklyn Museum," he murmured to them. "What's left of it, anyway. We're gathering there, you're just in time. We have people in the air for once, so that way the morons can't find us. Seriously, just follow the noise."

"What was the point of us talking to you then?" one of the men asked.

"Well, you'd be surprised how easy it is to get lost in this place."

The scavenger pointed south. "Thataway."

"Yeah, whatever."

The two poor men started walking and the scavenger continued to dig around, face concealed. He held up his watch and whispered into it. "Nearly all the rebels have been gathered. Might I say that this is one of your best plans yet, sir."

"Thank you, Evil One!"Max's voice came through the speaker, and then laughed maniacally. Max remained inside a dark room as makeup and costume were applied so that their lord could make a grand and personal entrance to the rebel meeting before killing all of them.

_"_Uh, are you guys forgetting that it was _my idea?" _Dave asked from a third point. Dave currently was in a room full of monitors, calmly watching the mass of people meeting on the steps of the former museum through supposedly destroyed cameras. His legs were kicked back and he reclined in his chair, applying hand sanitizer every couple of minutes out of habit. Wait, did I say minutes? I meant seconds.

"No, we are not forgetting that this was your idea, Dave," Max said. "It's just that if anyone asks who came up with the idea of getting Evil One to infiltrate the meeting and herd them all into one place so we can murder them all, I'll say it was all my idea! No big deal."

There was an audible groan on Dave's end at this.

Evil One checked his watch. Five minutes until that radical would begin his speech, so therefore there were five minutes to get over there. "I'm moving in," he said. "I say we hit them now."

"No," Max said.

"No?"

"Don't you see? We hit them during the speech! That makes it ten times more dramatic!"

"But...we have everything in position, sir."

"Evil One, are you questioning my authority?"

"Of course not, sir!"

"Then do as I say!"

Evil One sighed and jogged towards the annihilated museum.

Dave continued to stare at the monitors, an unimpressed look on his face as he observed the people gathering. No one he recognized. Hell, he didn't even know why he had the feeling that he might recognize someone. Contrary to popular belief, Total Drama contestants were not the only important people in the world. As a matter of fact, he sometimes wondered why the density of said contestants seemed to be going up in his line of work. To be honest, he just wanted to leave that goddamn show behind him.

Max's ship was cloaked and hovering over the museum. If he'd wanted to, he could have just bombed them all into submission. But he chose not to, because that is not what a supervillain was expected to do. Gloat, be as melodramatic as possible. The usual.

"Max, if you die because of this, I just wanted to say..." Dave began hesitantly. "I hate you. I hate you, I hate my job, I hate the fact that I ever had to work with you. I tried like thirteen times to get out of this but each time I couldn't."

"Whatever," Max sniffed. "It doesn't matter." He pointed a stubby finger down at the steps. "They're starting."

The crowd's noise died down slightly as a middle-aged man took the stage. What immediately struck Evil One about the man's face was that it was...disfigured. Droopy, almost.

"Please, settle down," the man said. Another figure slinked in behind him with a distinctly feminine frame. The figure remained to the shadows, a gun in its hand.

"Alright," the man said. "Let's get started. My name is, or was, Darren Moreau. I used to be a businessman. I wasn't the best person in the world, but I'd be damned if I didn't try my hardest to help people out who needed it. I was in Japan during the start of the crisis." Moreau paced around the stage, a grim fury evident on his features. "I was there when they somehow managed to destroy the nuclear factories from the inside." His voice started to quiver. "I saw _thousands _of people screaming. I saw them die. And I got _this," _He roughly shoved his pointer finger to his disfigured features. "-for my troubles."_  
><em>

Shouts and yells from the audience. Dave watched with a bored expression. "When are you actually going to attack them?"

"Be quiet, Dave."

Moreau continued. "Imagine when my surprise when I found out that the detonation of all the nuclear plants around the world was a total slip! That it was an "accident" capitalized on by Max Vile! That it was _not _the work of a genius, but a total _idiot!" _He almost snarled, voice getting louder and louder as it did so. "That half the world DIED because a moronHAS NO IDEA WHAT HE'S DOING!"

"Well I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being pushed around, of being treated like dirt." Cheers of assent from the crowd. "I am SICK of seeing death everywhere I go! And I am NOT GOING TO STAND FOR THIS ANY LONGER!"

The crowd burst into loud, unified chaos. The screams and cheers would shatter the eardrums of anyone nearby. Evil One watched in horror as the crowd began to chant, over and over again. _Justice, justice, justice..._

"This is ridiculous," Dave sighed, placing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Just start the war already. What are you waiting for?"

"Be quiet, Dave."

Moreau finished his speech and held his arms out, grinning. The feminine figure behind the disfigured man stepped out of the shadows. Dave's stomach dropped as the premonition that he'd recognize someone at the rally came to fruition.

Sky was there.

Dave's eye twitched, and he took a deep breath. "Max," he said, voice low and calm, but with a noticeable quiver. "You might want to kill them all. _Now."_

"You do not tell me what to do! I am your master!"

Dave sighed. No point in digging up the past. The finale of Pahkitew Island was not something he liked to recall. Dave, despite his supposed maturity, still had never really gotten over it. He was not the most stable of individuals, unfitting of his stereotype of the "normal guy."

Evil One held up his watch and spoke into it. "I think now's the time, sir."

"I was just thinking that, Evil One," Max replied with a sinister chuckle. "Let's get this show on the road."

The crowd was whipped into a frenzy. Moreau and Sky were chatting about something on the stage that couldn't be picked up.

Then, Max removed the cloaking device. The effect was instantaneous. People started to scream. A large airship materializing out of the sky with the insignia of Max Vile could do that.

Max appeared on a large screen on the front of the ship in a black suit and cape, makeup and all. Quickly, he laughed maniacally. "You fools! You have fallen right into my trap! All the rebels are here, and now you shall DIE! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"GET ON WITH IT!" Dave yelled at Max, which could vaguely be heard through the screen. Sky's eyes widened as she recognized the voice.

"Ah, yes, my adviser just wants me to kill you. But you know, that's not as much fun. So I want you all to do something for me. KNEEL!"

Moreau snarled and turned to Sky. "Where's the fucking rocket launcher?"

Sky growled. "Not far away enough."

The sound of gunfire pierced the air as machine gun turrets pulled out of the ship. Max personally commandeered them all, using a device to connect his mind with the turrets. The screen in front of him projected the positions of the crowd as 2D animations, dehumanizing his targets as he gunned them down without mercy.

Max centered in on Moreau and Sky, who were trying to direct events so that people could evacuate. Max could not see the pools of blood that stained the ground, nor the bodies from which they came. All he knew was that he had to kill them, and therefore he would. "Time to put this revolution in place! HA HA! Get it? Because...because...a revolution turns? You know? Never mind."

An explosion shook the ship and Max nearly fell out of the chair. "What the hell was that?"

"They're throwing Molotov cocktails at you!" Dave yelled.

Max zeroed in on a group of people throwing cocktails and using his mind pulled the trigger. The sound of gunfire as the people ran for cover. One was hit, falling over and landing with a crash and a scream. Max moved on to the others, systematically exterminating them. On his screen, he noticed that people were getting away but he didn't really care.

"Where did the two on the stage go?" he bellowed.

"They got away while you were busy killing a bunch of thugs!" Dave pointed out.

"WHERE ARE THEY?"

"I HAVE NO IDEA!"

"WELL WHERE DID THEY GO?"

"THAT'S THE SAME EXACT QUESTION YOU MORON!"

Max pressed a button, sending out drones. "Track down the leaders!"

Because Max never bothered to actually say or find out a person's name, his drones were programmed to try to figure out what his orders meant when he was being vague. Considering "the leaders" could mean anything, about three quarters of them left the area to find world leaders and kill them.

The other quarter fired at Max.

"No, no, not me! THEM! THE LEADERS OF THE REVOLUTION!"

Now that he had been more specific, the drones complied.

They came back. If their tails could be between their legs, they would be.

"What, you couldn't find them? Typical."

Max looked down at the grid to see that there was only one person left. Evil One.

"Evil One, you may board the ship."

"Yes sir! This went really well sir!"

"Dave, how are you?"

Dave was looking at the carnage. Dozens of bodies littered the area in a sea of blood, all courtesy of Max. Dave shuddered. "I'm...I'm fine."

"Let's just get the hell out of here."

* * *

><p>This transmission went out the day after Max crushed the rebellion in Brooklyn.<p>

"Ahem. Attention, everyone. This is Max speaking. You know the one. I'd just like to inform you that a total of three hundred people met yesterday in an attempt to form a revolution. They failed. I killed them all PERSONALLY. This is your warning. Resistance...is FUTILE! That is all."

The transmission shut off, and Max sighed. "Okay. Now time to see what mail I have."

He sifted through his letters, throwing each of them into the fire pit as he did so. "Junk mail, junk mail, bills...why did someone send me a condom? Junk, junk, bills..."

He stopped throwing things into the fire when he noticed an ornate letter addressed to him. He opened it.

_You are invited to the 15-year Total Drama reunion! As Chris McLean's whereabouts are currently unknown, I took it upon myself to find the location of all of the remaining Total Drama contestants and invite them all to a party! Food and drinks will be provided. If you are not able to come, that is perfectly fine! As long as we can see each other and make sure all of us are still alive! The party will be held on December 14th, at 7:00 P.M. in Muskoka, Ontario!_

_See you soon!_

_Your friend,_

_Ella_

Max rolled his eyes and set the letter aside, although he didn't burn it. Typical Ella. Wrote an invitation to the dictator of the world. He didn't feel like going. No point, really, when he had the entire world at his fingertips. Max chuckled. There was no way he'd ever get lonely or bored with everything he had. There was no need to talk to any of the former contestants. They were beneath him. He didn't need friends. Just total domination.

He smiled and kicked his legs back, casually sentencing someone to death because they didn't follow the dress code.

All was well.

* * *

><p><strong>When you put someone like Max in power, the result is both hilarious and horrifying. Hope that came through here.<strong>

**Next chapter will be where the plot truly begins.**

**Also, I hope to adopt a weekly schedule, updating on Sundays, but we'll see how well that turns out.**

**See ya guys later.**


	4. Chapter 4: Loneliness

**Why is it that whenever I attempt to adhere to any form of a schedule, something crazy comes up? Well, it's Finals week for me. So anyway, let's go back to the days where you never expect when an update is going to happen! Yay!**

* * *

><p>"S-Sir, what is it?"<p>

Max sighed, looking from behind his desk at the terrified mail carrier sitting across from him. The poor man was shaking in his boots, eyes shifting back and forth endlessly. Max didn't really understand this. Why would he be afraid of Max? He just wanted to talk was all. Was that too much to ask of an evil overlord? Huh? Was it?

"Sit down, John."

"Did I do something wrong?" the mail carrier asked. "D-did you receive a package you didn't like? Or maybe...maybe was my tie not straight enough? I-if so I can fix it, I promise! Just please don't-"

"What do you think I'm going to do?" Max asked exasperatedly. "You're not in trouble!"

John's mouth fell open. "I...I'm not? You...you're serious...you're not just setting me up for a cruel joke...right?"

Max examined him closely, a little bewildered. "Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Well, the only times you send someone to your office is when they've done something wrong," the mail carrier explained. "And they're never heard from again."

"I do NOT just send people to my office to kill them!" Max protested, sounding offended. "Why would you think that?"

"Name one person whom you've invited to your office that you didn't have intentions of killing," John replied.

Max opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He thought about it for a minute, trying to come up with something. He failed.

"So why am I here?"

Max ran a hand through his purple hair. "Look...sometimes it just seems as though no one actually, well, wants to talk to me. I mean, yeah, I'm the Supreme Lord of All Evil and all, but sometimes it just seems as though people keep telling me what I want to hear."

John furrowed his eyebrows, not sure where this was going. He decided that it was best to remain quiet and let the asshole talk.

Max continued his soliloquy. "And sometimes I just have this feeling in my stomach that I can't really place. It shows up whenever I'm alone for some reason, and sometimes when it's obvious someone is trying to get on my good side. I can't really put my finger on it though..."

"Sir, I think you might be feeling lonely," John said.

"What?" Max responded flatly.

"Lonely! I think you're lonely! Didn't you hear me the first time?"

Max laughed. And laughed again. And laughed. "You...you think I'm _lonely?" _He giggled and started clutching his chest. "You think I'm LONELY? HA HA! HA HA! HA HA HA HA! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!" Max dissolved into a laughing fit, clutching his sides. John looked down at the midget, unsure of what to do except slowly back away as Max's laughing seemed to dissolve into crying.

"Should I leave, sir?" the carrier asked nervously, absolutely terrified at the lord's seeming insanity.

The weird laugh/cry mixture continued as Max cradled himself on the floor, still giggle-crying, tears clearly flowing down his face. John turned and ran.

"Why is there saltwater on my face?" Max asked to no one in particular as the fit died down. "Why is there saltwater on my face? Hello? John? Ha ha, we playing hide and seek now? Ha ha...hee hee...ha...ha..."

In another second, Max was asleep.

* * *

><p>The next day, John had been fired for seeing the fit, but was not killed. Max had since attempted to talk to three other subordinates, all of whom had been increasingly nervous. Max was irritated at first. Then, as it became clear that they were <em>terrified <em>of him and wanted nothing to do with him, he started to get angry. How dare they be afraid of him? All he wanted to do was talk! Was that really so hard?

Max sat on the ground in his personal playroom, holding an airplane in his hands and making sound effects. "Bzzzz, shwoooosh! Oh nooo we're all gonna diiiie! Ah! Ah!" He knocked over a wide assortment of "civilians" which ranged from army soldiers to Barbie dolls. With a BOOOOM he blew up the Capitol Hall.

"AH HA HA! AH HA HA! THAT IS WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU MESS WITH ME! AH HA HA! HA HA HA HA..." Max stopped in the middle of his laughing fit, looking down at the toy destruction beneath him. He sighed, and stood up.

The feeling was back. Not...not that it was _loneliness._ That was absolutely preposterous.

Max walked through the halls, entering the elevator. With a sigh, he pressed a sequence of numbers. One, three, one, three. A second panel pushed out of the wall and Max examined the floors that lay beneath the tower.

"Never thought it would come to this..." he muttered as he pressed the button labeled "P" for prison.

The elevator shot down, and Max gripped the sides as the elevator skyrocketed downwards. A large "WHEEEEEEE!" escaped his mouth as it almost moved fast enough to lift him up from the floor. Steadily, the elevator slowed down as it reached the bottom, and through the window he saw blue skies change to concrete and cavern.

Finally, the door opened and Max walked out into a shining bright hallway. Each cell was made of steel and protected by Plexiglas. Max walked past and observed cell after cell of criminals from the city. What he didn't notice was that many of them weren't criminals at all, and a lot of them were petty thieves. Max continued walking, ignoring their pleas.

He finally found a large titanium door that was at least three times larger than the rest. He hesitantly punched in the combination. The titanium door slid aside to reveal...another tightly-sealed door, slightly smaller than the last one. Max entered the same combination, and the second door slid aside to reveal...

...

...

...a third door. Max cracked his knuckles and entered the third one. He took a deep breath and calmed himself as the final door slowly slid open.

Trapped inside a Plexiglas cage, pacing around, was Scarlett.

Scarlett didn't look too well. She appeared to have lost a great deal of weight, and her hair was undone, constantly getting in her eyes. Her jumpsuit was torn and a shock collar was placed around her neck. Her eye was constantly twitching. Max walked in and despite the thick layer of glass between him and his former sidekick, he was still terrified out of his wits.

Scarlett turned to face him and her jaw seemed to tense. She sighed. "Well well well..." The psycho walked closer towards the barrier, narrowing her eyes. "Look who finally decided to drop by for a visit."

"Don't think this is anything personal," Max sneered. "I just wanted to drop in on you."

Scarlett turned around, hiding something in her hands. Max couldn't tell what it was. He could however see that she had used something to scratch things onto the glass...he couldn't tell what, though, and he didn't honestly care.

"How goes the world conquering?" she asked, with a note of amusement in her voice.

"We wiped out a rebellion last week," Max said proudly. "I killed many of them myself."

"Did you do it face to face?" Scarlett asked calmly, drawing her fingernail upon one of the scratches in the glass.

"No," Max said hesitantly. "No I did not."

Scarlett turned to face him again for a moment. Then she shrugged. "Probably what I would have done. Have you tried taking a census?"

"A what?"

Scarlett's eye twitched as she looked over the lavishly-dressed gnome, with all his expenses and finery, still had no idea what a census was. "A population count. You count the total number of people you have so you know how best to distribute resources. It's not rocket science, although I could take time to explain that to you too considering that rocket you tried to launch a few weeks ago."

Max held out a pen and wrote down _"Census." _"Thank you for that idea, Scarlett! I truly appreciate it!"

"I live to please," the brainiac deadpanned. "Is there any particular reason that you're here?"

Max scratched the back of his neck. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure why I'm here. But that doesn't matter! What else can I do to improve my rule?"

"You could ration out food on a regular basis so that the people don't hate you," Scarlett said.

"I've never heard of a villain doing that before! That's preposterous!"

"It's _pragmatic," _Scarlett hissed. "But sure, don't take my advice. That'll get you places."

"Ooh, ooh, how about for nights off! Could you tell me what to do for nights off? I don't honestly know what to do and sometimes I feel a little llllll...uh, lax. Lax. That is what I was going to say."

Scarlett sighed and combed a hand through her hair. "Look...if you want help...you should have help. But coming to me, of all people? Are you really that desperate? Or are you lonely?"

"I AM NOT LONELY!"

Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Well, you're here, so that must say something about your current situation. Bored, then?"

"Shut up!"

The redhead sat down in her cell, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Well...I suppose that if you're so eager for help...I could become your adviser."

"My what?" Max asked, recoiling.

"An adviser! Someone who can help you make important decisions! And not fuck up the entire world in the process!"

Max furrowed his eyebrows, considering. An adviser...would people like him more if he had an adviser to help him out? Would he be better off that way? He pondered, deep in thought. Should he? Maybe...maybe it was for the best.

A scowl set across his features and he pressed a button on his watch, activating the shock collar. "You kidding me?" he shouted as Scarlett convulsed on the floor, screaming. "You think I'm THAT DUMB? I know what you're going to do! You're going to be my 'adviser' for a while, and then when my back is turned you'll KILL ME AND TAKE OVER THE WORLD! WELL I'M ON TO YOU! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO DO, AND IT'S NOT WORKING! YOU HEAR ME?"

Scarlett screamed as Max continued pressing the finger on the button, before finally he let go. Smoke rose from Scarlett's coughing body. Sobbing could be heard.

Max backed away, trying to remain calm. He straightened his clothes and without a look back, left as three sets of doors closed behind him.

* * *

><p>Max sat back down in his lofty throne, swiveling in it for a while. He sighed, blowing a raspberry for no apparent reason.<p>

"Bored...bored...lone-I mean, lazy..." Freckles walked up to him and Max stopped swiveling. He motioned for the pug to hop up, and the dumb animal did so.

He started scratching the contented animal behind the ears. "What must it be like to live your life?" Max sighed melodramatically. "With nary a care in the world...just what your next meal is going to be, where you're going to poop, and when you're gonna be pet. I wish my life was as simple as that," he said while organizing a fancy dinner, a new toilet, and a massage.

He set the dog down and out of the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of the letter he had seen a week before. Cautiously, he picked it up and examined it once again.

_You are invited to the 15-year Total Drama reunion! As Chris McLean's whereabouts are currently unknown, I took it upon myself to find the location of all of the remaining Total Drama contestants and invite them all to a party! Food and drinks will be provided. If you are not able to come, that is perfectly fine! As long as we can see each other and make sure all of us are still alive! The party will be held on December 14th, at 7:00 P.M. in Muskoka, Ontario!_

_See you soon!_

_Your friend,_

_Ella_

"Ah yes," Max said with a smile. "That thing! When...is that again?" He checked his watch casually before his eyes widened. "Oh my Zod, that's today! And that's tonight!"

He zipped up and quickly put a coat on, calling a number on his phone. "Yes, I need transportation to Muskoka immediately! It is VERY important!"

He didn't even know why he was excited about this, but he didn't really care. He quickly put on some inconspicuous clothing.

He stopped. He was going to a party filled with people who hated his guts. Hmn...he would need a disguise. A cunning deception truly worthy of his evil.

Max knew just the item.

Quickly, he grabbed a pair of Groucho glasses and put them on as he walked out onto the roof as the helicopter landed. He laughed to himself, which could not be heard over the helicopter. Quickly, he pulled out his mirror and examined his disguise. He nodded with a grin.

It was the perfect disguise.

Perfect.


	5. Chapter 5: Party

"You know, once upon a time I would have questioned why you're doing this. Now, I know better than to ask."

Max rolled his eyes at Dave, who had come along pretty much to chaperon the boy-man. The two walked down the dark street, Max's GPS leading them to the location of the party. He still wore the Groucho glasses and seemed to think that it somehow made him look completely different. Dave had sighed but resigned himself to the fact that the dear leader was probably going to be dead by the end of the night, which is why another agent had been sent to monitor things.

"Good. Dave, if anyone sees through my foolproof disguise, not that they will, of course, please protect me," Max said.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Dave said, rolling his eyes and applying hand sanitizer as they passed a hobo. "Ugh...poverty."

"I know what you mean," Max said sympathetically, trying to pat the taller man on the shoulder, only for Dave to recoil. "It is disgusting."

Dave wisely remained quiet at this.

"You do have multiple agents here, correct?" Max asked.

"Yup," Dave sighed. "Because this is a Total Drama reunion one of them is also a former TD contestant. Which I really don't get. We also have a couple of others outside the event just in case things get out of hand."

"You don't sound happy," Max noted.

"Just...why are there so many TD contestants in my life? Wherever I go, they're there! I work with a couple, you, obviously, and...Sky was part of the resistance. And now we're heading to a reunion? What, is this show the basis of reality? WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?"

Max rolled his eyes. "I think you need to take a leaf out of my book and take a chill pill. They are the most evil kind of pill."

"I don't get it."

"Of course you don't," Max smirked. "Which is why it falls to me to explain things to you, sidekick."

"Sidekick?" Dave asked. "Really? Remember what happened with your last sidekick?"

"What? I don't know what you're talking about," Max said, looking genuinely confused.

"I am not your sidekick. I'm not your adviser. I'm just a representative who helps you out when necessary. I hate your guts."

"Do not talk to your evil overlord that way," Max sniffed as they neared the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to be getting into character."

"As who?" Dave asked. "Everyone's taller than you!"

"I will be pretending to be Cameron. He didn't grow either."

Dave just looked at him in disgust. "What? Cameron? But he's a twig, and you're not!"

Max turned to look at him, already in character as Cameron. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. I am Cameron. I like big words. I have an annoying voice. And I'm sorry if I like McDonald's so much. I had to eat away my sorrows after I died a boring and stupid person. Way to be insensitive to fat people. Now get back on Tech Support where you belong, Indian!"

"But..." Dave sputtered, looking completely and utterly dumbfounded and repulsed. "You...just..._what? _What kind of...HUH? YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE DARK SKIN!"

"Racist," Max sniffed, cracking his fingers and getting ready to open the door to the party.

"But...Cameron...just...never mind," Dave growled, curling his fingers and resigning himself to his eternal fate of having to deal with Max.

Max opened the door and adjusted his Groucho glasses. The two walked inside.

Heavy metal was playing. Guitars crunched as the singer wailed. Strobe lights flickered through the club and Dave winced. "Ugh, this is disgusting."

"Why did Ella choose this music?" Max asked.

"I doubt she did. Keep out of sight. You'll be recognized instantly if you start ordering people around."

"Yo!" Beardo grinned, waving to Dave from behind a turntable. It appeared as though he and Duncan had taken the position of DJ. Ella was nowhere to be found.

"Hey Beardo," Dave rolled his eyes, looking around. "Look, I'm kind of here on business. Who all is here? Where's Ella?"

"You mean the _actual_ princess," Duncan rolled his eyes. "Ella got here late. Beardo and I had already taken over the music choices, so she just decided to go next door so that she didn't have to hear everything that was going on."

Dave nodded. "Thanks." He turned to Max, who remained hovering by the door. No one had noticed him. Yet at least.

Dave glanced around the room to see who all was there, and the threat level against Max. Jasmine was sitting at the bar, alone. Dave narrowed his eyes. Shawn had been one of the few people he'd made up with after Pahkitew Island. Despite the fact that he'd taken the risk of killing many of his former acquaintances by helping fund Max, Dave had hoped Shawn would still be alive.

"Hey," Dave said, sitting down next to Jasmine. "What's up?"

"Hey, Dave," the Australian said. "It's been a while. I'm sorry we had to meet like this. Fucking Max...can't actually believe he managed to take over the world."

"It's...pretty crazy," Dave said, a slight hint of guilt entering his voice as he saw Max enter the women's restroom by accident before walking into the men's. "I don't see Shawn...is he...?"

Jasmine's eyes widened. "Oh! No! He's still alive! We're still together, surprisingly. That zombie shelter he made using part of the million has actually really come in handy! He just didn't want to come."

Dave nodded. If it had been anyone else, he'd likely have wheedled the information out of her and sent a team to kill Shawn. But because it was one of his only friends left and his girlfriend...Dave smiled. "That's good to know. Thanks."

"No problem," Jasmine replied cheerfully as Dave got up to examine the room around him.

Max exited the restroom, adjusting his Groucho glasses carefully. Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Uh, who are you exactly?" Tyler asked, scratching his head. "You look kind of familiar..."

"My name is Cameron," Max said in his best nasally voice. "I don't believe we've met."

"Wow. You got fat. And pale."

"HOW DARE YOU!" Max snarled, only to receive a warning glare from Dave. "I...I mean...I just like my McNuggets, that's all. No harm there."

Tyler looked confused. "Okaaaay..." He walked off.

Dave walked over to the other agent, who was sitting at a table reading a book.

"Noah," Dave said, sitting down across from him. "Is the perimeter secure?"

"Yeah, yeah," Noah droned, rolling his eyes. "Matheson and Weller are in position in case things go sour. You know, I really hate this job."

"I hate it too," Dave sighed.

"No, seriously. I hate every single one of you. Do you think Owen's death makes me _want _to work with the group who ultimately caused it?"

"Why do you stay?" Dave asked suspiciously.

"Because I need a paycheck," Noah said. "And because they need my talents. And because I don't honestly care about anything anymore."

"Well, we should get this over with before anyone asks if we're cousins again," Dave sighed.

Noah groaned at this. "Don't remind me. Do you have any idea how many people asked me after Pahkitew Island air whether I was your cousin? Like I'd _want _to be related to you whiny, wangsty piece of shit. It's just like they think that-" He adopted his high-pitched mockery voice. _"-oh, two Indian guys got put on the same show! They must be related! Oh, there's NO way that they could just be two Indian guys with no relation to each other!"_

"I am NOT a whiny, wangsty piece of shit!" Dave protested, before scratching his head. "...what does wangsty mean again?"

"This is why I hate you."

Dave growled. "Whatever. The boss won't be happy if we keep fighting. Who all is here?"

Noah sighed. "Out of fifty-something contestants, only about twenty showed up. No one we can't handle."

Dave observed the rest of the diner. Lindsay and Tyler still seemed to be together and happy, despite the horrid situation in the world. Duncan and Beardo appeared to be having a blast. Jasmine was now talking and laughing with Samey. Scott was surprisingly conversing with Zoey despite their differences. Geoff sat alone at the bar, a drink in his hand. Dave narrowed his eyes at this. As far as he knew, Geoff and Bridgette were one of the few couples to have actually gotten married and had their marriage hold.

Max finally exited the restroom. Yawning, he took a seat near the exit. He turned to see that Heather was sitting next to him, a look of amusement on her face.

"Hey Max," she said with a sardonic note of victory. "How are you doing?"

"I don't think we've met," Max said in his Cameron imitation. "You must be...mistaken. I am not Max, although I wish I was. I always admired his chiseled features-"

"Oh, don't worry," Heather scoffed. "I'm not going to tell anyone. It'll be our little secret."

Max sighed. "Fine, woman. What are you doing here? Where is your bastard of a boyfriend?"

"Just like you to assume that relationships formed on a reality TV show last forever," Heather sneered. "He betrayed me. I'm done with him."

"Why did you come here then?" Max asked.

"Because I wanted to see who was dead," the former queen bee admitted. "I thought it would be better knowing which of my former enemies died still thinking I was a bitch."

"You _are_ a bitch."

"Well, yes, but that's not _all _I am," Heather replied.

Max gasped. "It's not?"

"Don't be sarcastic," Heather growled.

Max looked confused. "I wasn't being sarcastic."

Heather sighed. "Well, anyway-" Her eyes widened as she looked towards the door. "Oh shit! He's here!" Heather sprinted out of her chair and out the back door before Max even knew what was going on. He turned his head to see Alejandro strut through the door in an expensive tuxedo and a charming grin on his face.

"Good day!" Alejandro smiled, capturing the party's attention. "I would just like you to know that despite our past differences, if you need anything, _anything _at all, I'm there. That's all." He swaggered over to the bar and ordered a drink, and the contestants went back to normal.

Max got up and walked over to the bar. He felt a glare boring into him and he turned to see Zoey staring at him.

"Excuse me," Zoey asked, narrowing her eyes at the tubby figure, having a sneaking suspicion as to who he was due to the fact that his image was plastered over every single building in the city. "Who exactly are you?"

"Why, I'm Cameron you silly goose!" Max said in his best imitation. When he saw that no one was impressed, and that the entire party's attention was on him, he gulped. "You know? Your old buddy? Me?"

Duncan stopped the music as Zoey stared at him. Beardo made a tumbleweed sound effect.

"Cameron was murdered in front of me," Zoey said calmly, looking down at him. "And I only know one contestant stupid enough to pretend he's him." Max scrambled backwards, fear evident on his face.

Zoey removed the glasses and crushed them in her fist. The entire party stared as Max stood there, his disguise ruined.

"Well," Alejandro said cheerfully. "This is interesting." The snake slithered up to Max, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dave and Noah glared at Alejandro, and as a result the Spaniard gave them a mocking salute. "Max...maybe there's something you should know about the people here."

"Oh?" Max sneered. "Is it the fact that they can't touch me? They'll get a bullet in the head if they don't-"

"It's that you've _hurt _them," Alejandro replied gleefully. "You have tortured and killed their loved ones, and coming here was the worst idea you have ever had in your life." He patted Max on the head one would do to a dog whom had just ate everything out of the trash can.

He walked away cheerfully, motioning to Geoff at the table. "He's all yours, Geoff!"

The normally docile party boy stood up menacingly, bringing himself up to his full height as he advanced on Max. "Do you know why I'm here alone?" Geoff growled, as Max cowered for his life.

"M-Maybe...maybe she's not here right now?" Max cowered.

"We made it through the takeover," Geoff snarled, backing Max up against a wall as the rest of the party watched with a cautious eagerness. "We were still together. We stayed here and we were happy. We thought we could make it."

Geoff slammed Max into the wall, a look of pure rage lighting up his features. "We made it to New York. We'd heard that it was fine. And _then what happened?"_

Max sputtered as Geoff pressed his chubby neck against the wall. _"The ETOD? Your fortress? Do you remember what happened the first time you tried to set it up?"_

"Should we help him?" Dave whispered to Noah.

Noah shook his head, smirking. "No, I'm rather enjoying this."

_"IT TOPPLED!" _the party boy shouted hoarsely, his spit getting on Max's face. "IT TOPPLED, AND KILLED HER!" Max whimpered as Geoff drew back his fist and punched him in the face.

Max cried out, nursing his owie. Zoey moved in next to Geoff. "Let me have a turn. Please."

"Gladly," Geoff spit.

"Now?" Dave asked.

Noah sighed. "If we must."

Dave spoke into his watch. "Matheson. Warning shot."

Geoff and Zoey closed in on Max, ready to repay all the damage that he had caused.

A sniper shot entered the window and screams echoed throughout the establishment. Max stood up and attempted to regain control of the crowd.

"THAT was a warning shot!" Max grinned, trying to look confident and intimidating. He only came off as feeble. "Next time one of you tries to harm me, you shall feel my EVIL WRATH!"

Geoff bared his teeth at Max but everyone remained back.

The door opened, and Ella walked through, a look of horror on her face. "Oh no...oh no oh no! What happened here?"

"You invited MAX?" Geoff thundered.

Ella looked confused. "Of course! I said that I would invite every Total Drama contestant! Max was a Total Drama contestant!"

"He killed a lot of our families," Zoey protested. "If we can't kill him NOW, I want him OUT!"

Ella shrunk a little bit. "Well...I don't like having to remove guests...it seems mean."

"Do it," Geoff barked.

Ella sighed. "Fine." She turned to Max. "I'm really sorry about this, Mr. Gnome! But you're going to have to leave."

Max grit his teeth. "Fine! I didn't want to be here anyway! GOOD RIDDANCE!"

He turned to leave, but quickly Geoff picked him up by the scruff of the neck, opened the door, and threw him out.

Strangely, the snipers didn't fire.

Max slammed into the ground outside, blood pouring from his mouth. Cursing, he rose to his feet. Cold raindrops fell on his head, and thunder crackled. Max sniffed. Strange. He didn't have allergies. Why was he sniffling? And why was there water forming near his eyes? It must be the rain. It must have somehow entered his head and was just...leaking out of his eyes. Yeah.

"You get kicked out too?" another voice asked.

Max looked down to the street to see a smiling redhead sitting on the ground, covered in mud.

"Hmph," Max said, turning his chin up and folding his arms. "My evilness was not appreciated."

"You're in charge of the world," Izzy said. "Couldn't you just blow them up? I know I would, but they got rid of my dynamite."

"Your reputation aside," Max sniffed, turning so that he stood facing the redhead. "Why would you want to kill them?"

"Naw, I wouldn't want to kill them, stupid! Just scare them a little! Plus, I don't really care about most of them. Eva...she's gone now, and I haven't talked with Noah or Owen in a long time," Izzy sighed. "I kinda tried applying for a job with you, but they shot me down."

Max chose to ignore the fact that he knew Owen was dead. He looked bewilderingly at Izzy. "You are the first person I've met who expressed any desire to be affiliated with my EVILNESS!"

Izzy cackled at this.

Max scowled. "What? What's so funny?"

"You are! You think you're..." She got up and started waving her hands in his face. "SOOOOOOOOOOO EEEEEEEVIIIIIL! It's kinda hilarious! Or it would be if you weren't killing people left and right!"

"Not you too!" Max growled. "All week I've been chastised for being-" he made air quotes. "'immature.' Can you believe that?"

Izzy shrugged. "Well, yeah."

Max sighed. "Then...what do I do to stop it?"

"Stop what?"

"This..." Max started shaking his finger. "This BLATANT disrespect for me!"

Izzy hopped to her feet. "Welllllllllll..."

"What?"

"Do ya think I show respect to you?" she asked.

"Somewhat," Max snapped.

"I kinda know how to get people to fear ya!" Izzy laughed. "And a little bit about economics, well, Brainzilla does, so I think I could help you out a bit!"

"Everyone seems to be vying for a chance to kiss my backside," Max sniffed, turning his nose up in the air. "How do I know you won't betray me?"

Izzy sighed. "Because it's either joining you and trying to make things better...or fighting against you and dying." She perked up. "I'd prefer not dying! Now, first things first, have you ever considered duct tape as the solution to any and all problems?"

"Yes, actually," Max said, bewildered, as Izzy hopped up and started skipping.

"Good! Now COME ON, LET'S GET A MOVE ON!" She grinned maniacally. "Now let's blow this joint. You have any dynamite?"

"No!" Max protested, backing up. "If you wish to come with me, go ahead. You could still prove useful to me yet!"

"Aw. That's no fun. But okay! Consider me hired!"

Max shook his head as he continued to attempt to prevent the maniac from blowing up most of her former friends.

Into his watch, he pressed a button.

"Order 4,532," he whispered into it. "This is Class A important. I have hired another former Total Drama contestant. Unoriginal, I know. Hopefully, she shall help me further my evil schemes." He paused. "But...if she discovers that Owen is dead and proves a threat..." He observed her waving to the sniper.

"Kill her."

And with that, he walked after his new protege, a wide smirk on his face.


	6. Chapter 6: Straw

In the month that Scarlett had been imprisoned, there had been a total of three security guards in charge of watching her. The first had been a stern, no-nonsense, stickler character that somehow managed to overlook important details like Scarlett slipping a needle into her cell. She'd stabbed him under the belt with the needle in an attempt to escape, which ultimately failed. He'd been deposed after that.

The second guard had been sympathetic towards her and Scarlett had hoped to manipulate him into setting her free. However, he had ultimately been reassigned due to Max's paranoia. Both guards had lasted less than a week, and Scarlett had assumed that this trend would continue. So she counted on having a new guard about every week that she could try new things on.

The third guard had lasted nearly a month now.

Eric Morris was the epitome of every negative stereotype of a security guard ever, which was exactly why Max had selected him for the job. Morris was fairly ugly, although not overweight, had a mean glint in his eye at all times, and a tendency to torture and beat any prisoner whenever he felt like it.

Scarlett sat on the floor of her cell, massaging a bruise on her face. She twirled her broken glasses in her hands and subconsciously placed her thumb and pointer finger around her ribcage. Her face appeared gaunt and pale, her hair was sweaty and abysmal-looking, and the weight lost from a month of beatings and subpar food took its toll on her. She had given up trying to stand a day ago, instead trying and failing to conserve her energy. If Morris's strategy was to starve her until she was incapable of fighting back, it appeared to be working.

Silently, she cursed Max once again. She'd warned him, years ago. She'd warned him about meddling with things out of his control. But he hadn't listened, and once he had the funds for his ambitions, there would be nothing stopping him from utterly destroying the world with nary a care. Scarlett doubted that Max had ever killed anyone face to face. Killing from a distance allowed him to dehumanize his targets. The foolish boy that Scarlett had known on Pahkitew Island would not sleep quite as well at night if he knew how many babies he had inadvertently killed.

"Oy! Bitch!"

The door slid open and the man himself swaggered in, a grin on his face and a tray of the usual insubstantial prison food in his hands.

"Eric," Scarlett said weakly, not bothering to get up as the guard towered above her before setting the tray of sludge down at her.

"Didn't realize we were on a first name basis," Morris drawled, rising back up to his feet.

"What's the latest news?" Scarlett asked casually. "Your...generous accomodations sadly do not provide means for me to remain up to date on current events."

"None of your business," Morris sneered. "Never will be, either. Ya see," he said, leaning down and looking the psychopath in the eyes. "I'm not sure if you understand just yet, but…" Snarling, he decked her across the face, sending her to the ground. "You're not leaving here! Ya got that?"

"Your attempts to deter my perceived optimism for my surroundings are pitiable," Scarlett sniffed, pusing herself back up into a sitting position. She looked down at the sludge on her plate. "Although, generally, it is my belief that the worse a prisoner is treated, the more incentive they will have to take revenge."

Morris snorted, before turning to the device on his belt and turning a dial. The shock collar activated, electrifying Scarlett. She screamed in pain, before he dialed it back down. "Yeah, you're real scary. Ya THINK you're scary is what ya think! But you see this, right here?" He shoved the dial in her face, showing the amount of voltage he could pump through her body. "You can't bargain nothing when I can kill you witih a twist of my thumb."

Scarlett coughed weakly. "Is it...too much to ask...for more sustenence?"

"Look," Morris shrugged. "If you want better shit, then you know what the price is." The guard moved in suggestively, a grin stretching his features. "C'mon, I ain't that bad!"

Scarlett spit in his face. "If you think I would _ever _sleep with you, then you've just cemented my decision to kill you when I get out of here_."_

Morris's smile slowly vanished. "Aight then," he shrugged. "Your loss." Without even looking, he cranked up the voltage on the shock collar. Scarlett screamed again. Morris held the device for ten seconds before finally dialing it back down.

The door opened.

Max Vile walked through, hands tucked behind his back. "Ah, Morris," Max smirked as three sets of doors closed behind him. "I would like to talk with Scarlett for a moment. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, sir," Morris replied smugly, walking away from Scarlett's coughing body. "I'll leave you two alone to...do whatever."

Max pressed a button on his watch and a chair folded out of the ground inside the cell. The cell door closed and Scarlett slowly staggered to her knees, glaring at Max. Max cringed as he saw her. She'd lost at least another fifteen pounds since he'd last visited her, and her usually pale face was dotted with large blue marks.

"Scarlett...you don't look well," Max cringed. Quickly, he lost all sign of weakness and dismissed her with a sniff. "Oh well, not my problem. Good day to you."

Scarlett sat up. "Do you know that I have had so little food or water that it takes effort just to stand up?" she asked quietly.

Max folded his arms. "Well, you should have eaten the food you were given. No one likes a picky eater."

Scarlett barked out a laugh at this. "Do you think I _didn't? _The portions are so small, and the food itself is so unhealthy, I wouldn't be surprised if it was defecation from your rear end."

"What?" Max asked in confusion.

"I WOULDN'T BE SURPRISED IF IT WERE YOUR SHIT!" Scarlett thundered, and instinctively Max put his hand to his watch, ready to activate her shock collar if necessary.

"...oh," Max replied. He sniffed. "You might be wondering why I came here."

"Actually, I'm more wondering how you plan to leave this room alive," Scarlett deadpanned.

Max continued as if he had not heard her. "It's that I thought about what you said. About an adviser."

Scarlett nodded, not sure where this was going. "And..."

Max grinned. "I got myself an adviser!"

Scarlett golf-clapped, putting an obviously fake-cheery smile onto her face. "Yay! Max got his first adviser! I'm so proud!"

Max gestured to his watch, and Scarlett stopped.

"Very well," she said, trying her best to sound unconcerned, but the pain found its way to her voice. "Who?"

"Izzy from Total Drama!" Max grinned.

Scarlett was silent for a few moments. "...what?"

"She volunteered, we hired her. Simplicity!" Max extended his hands upward in triumph.

"You...hired...Izzy..." Scarlett seemed to be trying to comprehend what she'd just been told. "...as your adviser. Izzy."

Max nodded excitably. "Yes! She has been very helpful so far! I asked what we could do about changing it up around here and she suggested putting Kool-Aid in the water fountains! She's a genius!"

Scarlett stared at him for a few seconds. Then a laugh escaped her. Then another. Then another, and Scarlett was on the floor, cackling against her own will. She placed her hand on her forehead, laughing mirthlessly. Max sat in his chair uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. Finally, Scarlett's laughter died down and she looked him in the eyes, an unhinged gleam in hers.

"I don't believe it," she said calmly.

"What?" Max asked, looking confused.

"You're trying..." Scarlett nearly burst into laughter again. "to make me jealous! You, the great, powerful Max...are trying to make _me _jealous. You hired another former Total Drama contestant with an Asp294His allele, and-"

"What?"

"RED HAIR!" Scarlett screamed at him, causing him to shrink even further into his chair despite the fact that he was technically the one in control. "Anyway, as I was saying, former redhead Total Drama contestant with a knack for intelligence and insanity...are you sure this was intentional?" She smiled sweetly at Max. "Do you honestly think I care whether or not you have someone blindly following you around who isn't me?"

"Well-" Max began.

"I. Don't. Care," Scarlett snarled, moving to him. "Look at me. LOOK! AT! ME!" Max cowered even further. "DO I _LOOK _LIKE WHO YOUR SIDEKICK IS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING ON MY MIND RIGHT NOW?"

Max got up, shaking. "Well, thank you for your time, Scarlett, but I will be leaving now. A lot of evil to do, and not unlimited time to do it."

"Oh, you're leaving?" Scarlett laughed, a twinkle of insanity in her eyes. "I pity you even more now."

The door slid open and Max prepared to walk through. As he left, he heard Scarlett's voice.

"You delude yourself even further. You have learnt nothing, and I look forward to watching you burn."

Max paused for a moment, back turned to Scarlett. He continued moving.

The door slammed shut, leaving his only sort of anchor on reality behind him.

* * *

><p>The meeting room was filled with about ten people total, all either high-up in Max's organization or one of their allies. Several governors sat next to one another, while Dave was rubbing his hands together, and looked distressed that he'd forgotten his hand sanitizer. The fact that he was sitting next to Matheson, a burly, sweaty man didn't help matters.<p>

Vincent Matheson was an odd case in that he appeared to the average person to just be a hired thug, with a mouthful of teeth that had never seen braces in his childhood, a shaved head, and tattoos strung across his muscled body. Despite this, he was actually an expert in espionage and worked for Dave and Noah's employer as opposed to Max. Most of the more competent soldiers didn't work for Max. Giving Max that kind of men all to himself was far too dangerous.

Max sat at the head of the table, Evil One to his right side and Izzy to his left. Evil One looked around nervously, realizing that he'd forgotten an entire stack of papers that he still had to stamp with Max's illegible, childish signature. Izzy appeared to be gnawing on a straw, mangling it to bits, seemingly out of boredom. One of the foreign ministers scooted away from her, only to have Dave on the other side about having a panic attack without his breath mints.

Finally, the meeting began.

"Good day, ladies and gentlemen," Max said in his nasally voice. "Thank you for coming. We will now be discussing the matter of the resistance, and how to deal with it. Evil One, if you would."

Evil One cleared his throat and pressed a button. A hologram of a drooped, disfigured face appeared above the table, turning so that each of them could see it.

"This is the leader of the resistance," Evil One said. "Darren Moreau. A former Japanese businessman who lost much of his empire after the takeover. He's been traveling around trying to stir uprisings and recruit people to his insurrection. In-including..."

Dave narrowed his eyes and stared at Evil One, who gulped.

"Including...including my former partner, Evil Two."

He changed the hologram, but instead of Evil Two's face popping up, what appeared to be Twilight began playing. Evil One's eyes widened and quickly he changed it to Evil Two's face. "That was nothing," he denied. "Nothing, you saw...nothing...nothing...yeah."

Izzy threw her mangled straw at him, hitting him in the face. He picked it up with his fingertips, grimacing as he felt her drool before throwing it away. Quickly, he wiped his hands off on his sleeves, and Dave felt a pang of sympathy for Evil One at that moment.

"If you have not met her yet," Max said smoothly, "this is my new adviser, Izzy. She will be helping us by...whatever means necessary. Would you like to introduce...yourself...Izzy..." Izzy was gone. "Where did she go?"

"Hi!" Izzy was clinging onto the ceiling, and the entire table yelped in surprise. "Sorry, just got bored!" She flipped back into her seat. "Anyway, sup?"

"We were just introducing you," Max said, seemingly irritated. "But no matter."

Matheson cleared his throat. "If I could, sir, suggest something," he said in his gruff voice. "Moreau has been traveling with a former Olympic gymnast and marksman as his bodyguard and lieutenant. She could be a problem, but if we were to take her out quickly..." He grinned, showing his bent teeth.

Dave appeared to suddenly be very interested in a ceiling tile.

Max nodded. "Excellent suggestion, Matheson! Izzy, your thoughts?"

"Do we have to kill them?" Izzy asked. "I mean, couldn't we compromise? I think that they'd be happy just with a little bit more food or drink their way."

"WHAT, ARE YOU KIDDING?" Max shouted. "That's PREPOSTEROUS! If they don't have food, well, I guess they made a REALLY bad decision being poor, then!"

Dave bonked his head against the table.

Evil One rose his hand. "Sir, just so you know, our contract with Signal Industries is almost expired. They'll be wanting more payment if we're to use their weapons."

"I can take care of those boring financial matters," Max sniffed, huffing himself up to look more important. "Who's the CEO again?"

Dave spoke into the table. Everyone turned to look at him. He poked his head up. "Alejandro Burromuerto. Yaaaay, another TD contestant." His head went back down onto the table, and his contributions were no more.

Max furrowed his eyebrows. "Alejandro was at the party I went to. He was wearing a nice tux. I guess it makes sense."

Matheson cleared his throat. "You've had this contract with Signal Industries for as long as you've been a conqueror and you never knew who the CEO was?"

"The details aren't important," Max sniffed. "I was funded by Dave here, or whoever the hell he works for. His group provided the funds for the contract with Signal. Voila, weapons. It will be fine."

"So what's the plan?" Izzy chirped. "I'm getting kinda bored here. But...could we not kill them? They kind of have a point."

"Quiet, fool," Max said. "We will find another of their fortresses and BRING IT TO THE GROUND! All in agreement?"

All the people at the table were aware of the machine gun turrets on the ceiling, so quickly every hand was raised in agreement, mutters of assent dotting the air.

Max smiled. "Good. Dismissed."

Dave sighed in relief and got away from the table as fast as he could. Matheson exited quietly while Evil One breathed an audible sigh of relief as he left the room. Izzy tried to get up but Max grabbed onto her arm, motioning for her to remain seated.

"I want to talk with you," he said quietly.

After everyone had left the room, Izzy and Max sat in silence. Max cleared his throat. "Why are you sympathizing with the enemy?"

Izzy shrugged. "Well, 'cause you have to look at all possible viewpoints in order to get shit done." She got up and picked her straw out of the trash can. "Like, this straw, for example! Let's say one end of the straw is you, and the other is Moreau." She squinted as she tried to look through the bent-up straw. "Once upon a time, you guys could totally have the same flow, ya know? But now..." She mangled it up, grinning. "It's like ZSIEGUH9430A7WGZH9TUIO!" She presented the mangled straw. "

"You can't drink anything out of this! But..." she smoothed the straw back out. "If you manage to straighten things out...you can still drink some delicious egg nog without having to get a new straw!" She grinned, proud of her analogy.

Max scratched his head. "I...have no idea what you just said."

Izzy frowned slightly. "Eh. If I'm gonna advise you, you're gonna have to listen to people with different views than your own."

Max sighed. "Sadly." He got up. "Regardless, thank you. I shall consider your...thing. Analogy. Whichever." He walked out of the room, Izzy behind him. "After this, perhaps we can figure out what makes the other tick."

Izzy smiled. "Of course! See ya, munchkin!" She ran off down the hallway. Slowly, Max went back into the room, eyebrows deep in thought.

He picked up the straw. "So...the straw represents society...and one end is me, and the other me, NO, wait, Moreau, right." He mangled it up. "And if this happens, then stuff is bad, and I should really throw this away, and...um...what was the part about straightening it out again?"

For the next thirty minutes, Max remained in the room, talking and shouting to himself, trying to work out the analogy that Izzy had given him. Much mangling of the poor straw later, he finally understood what she had said and why she had said it.

It had taken thirty minutes, but he actually realized that Izzy had a point.

He didn't agree with the point, but he admitted that she had a point.

And there was always a first step for everything.


	7. Chapter 7: Assault

**My apologies for the lack of updates, school has really gotten in the way there. Hopefully the next chapter won't take near as much time to get out.**

**Also, if you'll follow the link below, the ever-awesome Ponythekidrs has created a bit of promo art for this fic! It's awesome, you should check it out!**

**deviantart art/TINAFAITIWB-510645605**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Evil One had a very set, strict guideline to his day. First things first, he would drop by the local coffee shop and order his usual latte, a necessity throughout the day. Second, he would take the transit system to the ETOD, where he would take the elevator up to the top floor, where Max had made his domain. Then, he would sort through paperwork with about five other unlucky souls designated to that job. Every hour or so they'd see someone falling from the tower, likely for displeasing Max. Max always made sure that he never had to see his handiwork up close. Then, once they were finished with the day and Max's shenanigans had been taken care of, Evil One would return to his apartment and sleep.<p>

Today, however, immediately struck him as different.

It started when he could hear voices before he'd even gotten up out of bed. Yawning, and rubbing the sleep out of his dopey eyes, Evil One looked outside to see protesting going on. It was pointless, really. Either it devolved into a full-scale riot or Max's drones came in and "persuaded" them to stop their protesting. Or both.

Evil One yawned as he walked into the coffee shop. "Hey, Gordon," he waved lazily as he walked to the counter. "The usual, if you would."

"Oh, right," Gordon said from behind the counter, glancing around nervously. "Uh, I'm afraid I can't serve you today."

Evil One looked confused. "Why not?"

"Well, James, you see-"

"Ah!" Evil One interrupted.

"Ah, sorry, Evil One...you see...er...um..." the owner put his hand in his pockets. "I'm afraid...that I can't serve you today!"

"What?"

The owner gulped. "And...I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Evil One furrowed his eyebrows, his entire world view shattered. "What? But...I've been a loyal customer for years! W-why?" His lip quivered, and Gordon cringed. Evil One always had a way of making him feel guilty. Whether it was intentional or not was another story.

Gordon sighed. "Well...today's...um...a..." Evil One narrowed his eyes at him. "I can't tell you."

"You can tell me!" Evil One protested. "I don't do much!"

"Ain't that the truth," Gordon muttered under his breath. "Er, yeah. I can't tell you and there's nothing you can do to..." He looked up to see that Evil One was giving him puppy eyes. "YOU'RE A GROWN MAN, JAMES, NOT A PUPPY! YOU ARE NOT CUTE! STOP IT!"

He didn't.

"STOP, I COMMAND YOU!"

Evil One did not oblige.

Gordon nearly tore his hair out at this. "OKAY, FINE! The resistance snuck into the city, okay? Word's traveled around that Moreau's here HIMSELF! We're not sure what he's after, but that's all I know! Just...just...STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! IT'S WEIRD, OKAY?"

"Moreau..." Evil One trailed off, back to his usual self. "Okay...thank you. I'll be off now! Thanks!"

As he left, Gordon placed a hand to his temple, groaning. "My God, what have I done..."

* * *

><p>Max remained in his usual grandiose room, fingers steepled as he observed the file documenting Owen's death. He'd attempted to run from authorities after stealing food for his family, and after a struggle had been gunned down in the street.<p>

"Pity," he sniffed, before swiping his finger across the screen to something else.

"SIR!"

Max looked up as Evil One burst through the door, breathing heavily and chest heaving.

"Yes, minion? What is it?" Max asked, sounding concerned.

Evil One coughed. "Moreau...resistance...they're in the city!"

"WHAT?" Max yelled. "HOW DARE YOU BRING ME THIS NEWS? I SHOULD HAVE YOU EXECUTED FOR BRINGING ME THIS NEWS!" he bellowed, pulling out a death ray.

Evil One adopted a perplexed look. "...what?"

Max sighed. "It...um...it means that, well, isn't it expected of me to kill people who bring bad news?"

"It's not a good idea," Evil One said. "Plus, we've kinda been working together for a long time, so..."

Max sniffed. "Whatever. It's not important. EVIL ONE! FETCH DAVE, IZZY, AND MATHESON AT ONCE! WE MUST NOT LET THEIR PRESENCE HERE LINGER ANY LONGER!"

"Linger any longer?" Evil One asked, bemused at the choice of words.

Max opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. He sighed. "Whatever! GO!" Evil One scrambled off, a squeak coming out of his mouth as he did so.

Max sighed and sat down. "Why is it so hard, being an evil overlord?"

A buzzing noise interrupted his thoughts. With a yawn, Max looked down to see that someone was calling him. Alejandro Burromuerto.

"Max?" the Spaniard's smooth voice came from the device. "It's been a while! We rarely do our business dealings in person any more."

"You were at the party," Max accused. "Acting VERY condescending towards your overlord. Why would you act like that?"

Alejandro had neglected to use the video option, so Max couldn't tell what his expression was, but a laugh filled the speakers. "I apologize, amigo. It would not do the public well to know that Signal Industries has nothing more than a grudging partnership with your enterprise. By making them think that we aren't close, we prevent them from targeting my company if rebellion should occur."

Max sniffed again. "Very well. You've convinced me. But regardless, this chat will have to be for another day. I'm going to personally lead a cleansing of my city! Those rotten rebels have INVADED my territory! They shall be crushed!" Max grinned evilly, before returning to his normal facial expression. "Oh, and once that's over with, I'll be happy to meet!"

"Excellent!" Alejandro replied. "I will look forward to it."

The transmission shut off, and Max narrowed his eyes. He didn't trust Al. Eel as he was.

"He thinks he's so smart," Max grumbled. "Well, he doesn't have an IQ of 367! At least I have that going for me."

Max had bullied the examiner into giving him that IQ, but he chose to ignore that particular fact.

Quickly, Max moved through the halls towards the elevator. Quickly, he got inside, and pressed the button which would lead to the airships. As the elevator went down, he quickly prepared himself with his usual death ray. The fact that he'd never really personally saw to the extermination of an enemy in the flesh seemed to slip his mind.

The elevator opened and Max quickly walked to the helicopter. Dave ran up beside him, clearly furious. "What do you think you're doing, Max?"

"Eliminating a threat," Max sniffed. "You coming?"

"You're not even wearing any armor!" Dave protested. "Come on, what's the point of this?"

Max pointed his death ray at Dave. "I AM wearing armor. Just underneath. I'm not a total moron, David. I know you think I am, but..." Max gestured around him, death ray in hand and smirked. "I got here somehow, didn't I?"

Dave grumbled to himself, and quickly pulled on the necessary gear for the job. He holstered his gun and sighed melodramatically.

Several airships sat down on the roof and Dave could see Matheson entering one, barking orders to his subordinates. Max took the largest airship for his own, closely followed by Izzy and Evil One. Dave looked to see that the final remaining ship was still open. Max didn't like huge missions, but he always wanted enough men to make a grand entrance. Sighing, Dave entered the helicopter.

"I pity you, you know," Noah's voice came from the cockpit. "It's a pretty shitty deal, getting stuck with him."

"It's my job," Dave sighed. "I was told to do it, so I plan on doing it."

Noah rolled his eyes and pressed several buttons as the helicopter's blades began to spin. "Yeah, I'm _sure _that's all it is."

As one, the three airships took to the sky.

Dave leaned back as he observed the twenty or so other men that had somehow managed to be fit into the airship. The mild chatter quieted down as the intercom turned on and Max's nasally voice came through.

_"Listen well, all. It appears as though the resistance has decided that they can trespass on my turf. We plan to show them that we are NOT to be trifled with, and that our EVIL will defeat all who try to oppose us! Here is the plan."_

In the middle of the room, a hologram fizzed to life, showing an old, rrun-down compound that appeared to have at one point been military.

_"Our spies have determined that they are operating out of this hellhole. But don't let its rundown appearance fool you! They are VERY well-armed, and VERY dangerous. Show no mercy, and for Evil's sake, PLEASE be able to shoot accurately...that's one evil overlord tradition I DON'T want to follow. Max out."_

Max sighed as he shut off the mic. He turned to see Izzy nodding and smiling, in gear as well. Evil One adjusted his body armor awkwardly. "Max, I'm not exactly...very good at shooting."

"True," Max replied. "But I trust you. So I want you to stay close to me."

Evil One's eyes widened. "You trust me?"

"Is that a surprise?"

Evil One sputtered for a bit before taking a deep breath and sighing. "A bit."

"What about me?" Izzy asked. "Ya don't trust me?"

"You will also remain close to me," Max said with a scoff. "The more the eviler."

"I believe it's 'the more the merrier-"

"NO IT ISN'T SHUT UP."

Izzy shrugged. "Fine, fine, little gnome dude...yeesh."

Max scoffed again and held up his death ray, and looked outside to see that they were rapidly approaching the old building. Quickly, he turned on the intercom again. _"Attention fools! We are nearing our target!"_

"Max," Izzy began, but Max shushed her.

_"Surround it, and take it by storm! Kill them ALL!"_

"Max..." Izzy tried to warn again, but Max wouldn't listen.

_"Leave no survivors! NOW GO!"_

"MAX!" Izzy yelled, and Max spun to look at her.

"WHAT?" he replied in exactly the same tone.

"YOU JUST TURNED ON THE MIC _FOR THE ENTIRE HELICOPTER!" _Izzy screamed, and Max's eyes widened.

A second later, the airship swerved, sending Max flying to the ground as the pilot swerved to avoid the rockets that had just fired at the airships after Max had accidentally let them know as to their presence.

"GO GO GO GO GO GO GO GO GO!" Max ordered. "SET US DOWN SET US DOWN SET US DOWN!"

Evil One screamed as the pilot swerved again. Max looked up to see his protege flying directly towards him.

CRASH.

"Ow..." Max groaned from the ground.

"Setting you down now!" The pilot exclaimed, clearly panicked.

Quickly, the airship dropped, leading to more screaming.

"THIS IS WHY YOU WEAR A SEAT BELT!" Evil One yelled.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Izzy screamed, grinning.

The airship quickly sat down on the ground. If its tail could be between its legs, it probably would be.

The door opened and quickly the men started filing out, guns in hand. Max had taken the only death ray for his own. Evil One slowly crawled to his feet and proceeded to vomit all over the entrance to the ship.

"Delightful," Max sniffed, stepping over it. Izzy jumped over it and Evil One stumbled over it on the way out. Gross.

They could hear muffled yells from inside the compound, and Max ordered his men to advance. The sound of gunfire rang out through the air, and Max held up his death ray, ready to fire.

"Do I have to kill people?" Izzy asked nervously. "I may like yanking peoples' chains but I don't want to kill people."

"No, you just stay near me," Max reassured her. He nodded to Evil One. "Same with you."

Max held up his death ray and examined the metal door blocking their entrance, and quickly pulled the trigger. A blast of energy exited the death ray, blowing open the door. "Onward!" Max yelled as he entered. Izzy and Evil One followed reluctantly.

Max screamed and ducked as an enemy actually had the nerve to fire at him. "Danger, bad danger!" he yelled. "Somebody get rid of him! He's very mean!"

They heard a gunshot from the other end of the hallway. Izzy scowled at Max a bit. "You're kind of a coward."

Max raised his death ray instinctively before remembering that he actually somewhat liked Izzy. He poked his head around the corner to see Dave with a gun in his hand, looking bored as all hell.

Max stood up and started walking towards him. "Where is everyone?" He asked.

"Matheson's plane got shot down," Dave replied. "They're all dead except for the man himself. Come on, we need to keep moving."

Evil One's eyes widened. "They're dead?"

"Keep moving," Dave growled. "I'm not hanging around you guys. My men are tearing through theirs. Just go. Their main room is...five floors above us."

Max grinned and kept going. A group of enemy soldiers fired at them. Max raised his death ray and quickly blasted them to smithereens. No blood, merely ashes. Max ran over them, laughing maniacally, his fancy contraptions once again allowing him to dehumanize his targets.

"Is he okay?" Izzy asked Evil One nervously, who scratched his head.

"I...don't know," he admitted. "He doesn't like seeing blood. Which is why I'm kinda worried about him being here."

Izzy nodded and ran after him, while Evil One walked more slowly.

"Holy..." the voice came from behind Evil One, and he whipped around, pointing his gun at the figure.

Evil Two stood before him, looking completely bewildered to see him there.

"Evil Two?" the former partner asked. "It's been forever!"

The man growled, pulling out his gun. "Don't call me that. It's Marcus. I'm done associating with that halfwit fucktard, Max." He sneered. "You hung around with him all these years? That's kind of sad."

Evil One threw down his gun. "Regardless, I'm not shooting you. ...and since when was your name Marcus? I thought it was-"

" I changed it to protect my identity," Marcus interrupted, tossing his gun to the ground as well. "And James, it's nice to see that you're still a moron."

Several other guns clicked and Evil One sighed as the other soldiers surrounded him. He raised his hands in the air.

"Come on boys," Marcus yawned as several men surrounded Evil One. "This one is close to Max. Let's get out of here and cut our losses. Moreau will understand."

* * *

><p>Dave moved through the halls on his own, moving up the stairs. Downstairs, a shootout was occurring and Dave didn't really want to get his hands dirty at the moment. As he heard screams, he continued up the stairs to the fifth floor, more nervous than he was letting on.<p>

As he rounded the corner, he looked and his stomach shriveled a little bit.

Sky stood in front of him, gun in her hand, expression frozen on her face as she saw Dave.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" Dave commented, holding up his own gun.

"If you think that I'm going to just sit and chat just because of some bullshit failed romance I'm not going to shoot you right now, you're wrong," Sky replied coldly. "I have priorities, and you aren't one of them. Hands in the air."

Reluctantly, Dave put his hands in the air. "How have you been?" he asked casually, a note of passive-aggressive menace in his voice as he did so. Sky didn't respond, instead searching him for weapons. "You know, I've been pretty good...you know...after you betrayed me and left me for dead."

"Shut up," Sky growled as she searched his pockets, finding nothing but tissue paper and breath mints. "Why the hell did you bring these along?" she asked, and took the gun from Dave's hand.

"Do you know how long it took anyone to find me?" Dave asked, the venom becoming more clearly pronounced in his voice as he carried up the entire conversation. "A month. A month without anything. No Chris, no parents, no...no you. The entire time I thought, 'surely they'd rescue me.' But they didn't."

A brief look of pain flashed across Sky's face, but it quickly passed.

She decked him across the face. "Is that why you joined Max then? Because that seems kind of petty if you ask me!"

"You want me to show you the scars?" Dave snarled, staggering to his feet. "You still think you're some nice girl, right? And that's why you're here. Sticking up for the people. But you see me? You didn't rescue me. You threw a _fit _when you lost. You're a fucking hypocrite and I can't wait to watch you burn."

Sky clicked her gun, aiming it at Dave's forehead. "Not. Another. Word."

Dave smirked, remaining quiet.

The sound of an explosion rocked the corridor, and Dave took his chance.

Quickly, he knocked the gun out of Sky's hands and aimed a punch for her face. Sky intercepted and attempted to sweep him under the legs. Dave crashed to the ground, but immediately recovered and kicked Sky in the face. He scrambled for his own weapon, but just as he grabbed hold of his gun Sky smashed him in the face.

Blood flowed from his cheek as Sky kicked the gun away, quickly holding up her own gun. Sky aimed it at Dave, who lay coughing on the ground. Her finger lightly pressed against the trigger.

But she did not pull it.

And in that moment of hesitation, Dave turned and pressed a button on his watch, sending out an electric shock that blinded Sky momentarily. She let out a scream as Dave ran for his life, using kleenex to wipe his bleeding face off. He quickly took the stairs two steps at a time, shocking several enemy soldiers that came his way before bursting out the door, gasping for breath.

Dave's face was neutral, but his heart was beating faster than it had in years.

* * *

><p>Max stopped in front of a large, metal door that stood between him and the main control room of the compound. He took a deep breath. "Okay...it is time to meet my nemesis. No biggy. Should probably leave a good impression...yeah. Should be good. Evil laugh? No, I have a cold. No evil laugh today."<p>

"What are you rambling about?" Izzy asked, sounding surprisingly deadpan.

"This is a big moment, minion," Max exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. "I want to make an excellent first impression. Everything needs to be perfect! You don't know the feeling of having someone against you at every turn! This is going to be the start of a beautiful nemesisship."

"You're weird," Izzy stuck her tongue out at him. "Just blow the door open!"

Max groaned. "Fiiiiiiiine!"

Dramatically, he raised the death ray and blew the door open.

On the other side, about seven men plus Moreau stood with weapons in their hands.

Moving quickly, Max started disintegrating men before they could fire at him, while Izzy cringed, having tried to convince him that killing people wasn't the best option, but the fool wouldn't listen.

One of the men fired off rounds at Max, but missed due to the fact that he was untrained, and guns were a lot harder to use than Hollywood made it appear. Max quickly disintegrated him as well.

Moreau scowled, and Max wrinkled his face upon seeing him. "You look ugly," Max said without a trace of irony entering his voice.

Moreau raised his gun but Max gestured to his death ray. "I assume I shouldn't move," the Japanese businessman said smoothly. "I know how this ends. You wish to kill me, correct?"

"No," Max said. "I'd much rather prefer to take you prisoner and parade you around for a bit before executing you as an example of why you shouldn't be disobeying my authority."

"You kill me," Moreau replied slowly and clearly. "Others will just take up the reins. We're tired, Max."

Izzy looked around, as if uncertain of what to do in the current situation.

"Well..." Max scratched his head. "I'm tired too! I went to be at TEN O CLOCK last night! I know, horrible! I need to get more sleep."

"You fail at dramatic talk," Moreau replied bluntly.

Max sputtered a bit at this. "WHAT did you just say to me? That...that's just rude...you're rude! You probably don't even know what the word dramatic means!"

"Certainly not taking time out of your day to bicker pointlessly with me?" Moreau pointed out, and Max readied his death ray.

"Don't test my patience," Max growled.

Moreau lowered his gun and, with no sense for anything dramatic, fired.

Max looked down to see the wound seeping from his lower stomach. Izzy gasped.

"You...are not invincible," Moreau said, smiling as Max looked down numbly before screaming.

"WHAT IS THIS?" Max yelled. "Why does my tummy hurt so much? What...what...did you just _shoot _me?" Max asked, horrifed.

"You die, nothing will change," Moreau said, putting his gun away. "I don't want to kill you, Max, because then _I'd _be the one stuck with your mess."

Izzy raised her gun and growled. "You make no sense!"

"No, it is _you _who makes no sense!" the businessman replied. "Why do you help him when he's caused this world so much pain?"

"'Cause he's a cool guy," Izzy said. "Even if he's a little nuts." Max collapsed, and Izzy attempted to drag him out.

Moreau smiled. "You keep believing that. You'd be best to get him to a doctor...you won't have time to take me in." Moreau started walking towards an open window, an odd choice of design for a seemingly secure military bunker. "Ciao." Quickly, the businessman jumped out, and Izzy ran to the window and looked down to see that he'd jumped onto an airship similar to that that Max had.

Realizing that it was too late to go after him, Izzy ran back over to Max, who was wheezing in and out, holding his hands to the wound. "Get it off, get it off..." he groaned. "Mommy?"

Izzy turned on her intercom. "This is Izzy, reporting! Max has been shot! Repeat, Max has been shot and needs immediate medical attention!"

Max took the mic and looked at it for a moment before vomiting into it. Izzy cringed as Max dropped the useless item. Slowly, people trickled into the room, trying to help but not really knowing how to. Finally, two doctors came in with a stretcher and carried the overlord away.

Izzy looked around for Evil One, but was unable to find him. Quickly, she walked over to Dave, who was staring out into nothing. "You seem off," she noted.

"This was a pretty big failure," Dave replied, face still blank. "They escaped...and yeah, he got shot."

Izzy nodded. "Uh, small question."

"Fire away."

"What exactly do you do for working with Max?"

Dave turned to Izzy and sighed. "Max couldn't have gotten to where he is today without a helpful benefactor, whom I represent. We provided the money to create a contract with Signal Industries, and we used our agents throughout the world to kick off his takeover."

Izzy's eyes widened. "Wow...why?"

Dave turned away from Izzy so that she couldn't see his face. "Because that's my job. And I don't ask questions."

Izzy's widened eyes narrowed, and she turned away from Dave, remaining quiet as she walked away.

Once he was sure that Izzy was out of earshot, Dave pulled out his phone, punched in a number, and made a call.


End file.
